


for lovers, running away

by benditlikepress



Category: NCIS
Genre: Anxiety, Episode Tag, Episode: s17e01 Out of the Darkness, Episode: s17e02 Into the Light, F/M, Family, Reunions, kind of a mess, minor mentions of other characters - Freeform, very self-gratifying tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-12 05:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20990069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benditlikepress/pseuds/benditlikepress
Summary: After the events of the last three years, Ziva goes home (via an Airbnb in downtown Madrid)post 17x02 reunion fic





	for lovers, running away

**Author's Note:**

> Seeing as there was ambiguity in the episodes, for the purposes of this fic Tony and Tali knew Ziva was alive. It's spoken about during the fic but just putting that out there beforehand for clarity.  
I also fixed it so that Ziva saw Jimmy in DC because it made me so sad to think he might not have got to say hi :(  
I only meant for this to be a couple of thousand words so I guess you could say it got out of hand. Sorry if it’s slightly OOC? I haven’t written Tony and Ziva in about 8 years lmao but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to explore the new things going on with them
> 
> Title is from For Lovers – Wolfman ft Peter Doherty 
> 
> Disclaimer: if I owned these characters Ziva David would’ve been treated better and that’s that on that. sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> Warnings: mentions / discussion / depiction of anxiety

In terms of locations for big emotional reunions, a small Airbnb apartment in downtown Madrid at 11pm on a Tuesday probably wasn’t high on the list of many people’s wish-lists.

  
The streets were still busy as Ziva made her way by foot, stopping to look at each building as though she expected to suddenly see what she was looking for. The brief conversation she and Tony had on the phone before she boarded her plane had been not much more than a “It’s done. I’m coming home” “we’re in Madrid, come here if you can” “address?” “we’ll talk when you get here, safe flight”, short words followed by big gaps of silence as the two of them contended with what was happening. They hadn’t seen each other in six years, it hit Ziva suddenly as she heard him breathing over the line.

  
That was one of the many reasons for the anxiety she felt as she shivered in the unexpected chill of the night, checking Google maps to confirm the apartment was on the next street. She put her phone away and replaced it in her hand with the pendant of her necklace.

  
Touching Tali's necklace had become a comfort to Ziva, a way to calm herself down. She had read online that it was a coping behaviour, something anxious people used to reduce their symptoms and get through a situation. She was also prone to more maladaptive coping strategies - safety behaviours and self-medicating with the pills Adam gave her, but as far as behaviours went she supposed she could be doing worse than touching a necklace when she was anxious.

  
She wished she could have had some two-way communication with Tony so he could tell her how Tali might react. All they'd had was that brief conversation explaining where he and Tali were, and a promise to speak when she got here. He could have given her a little reassurance, maybe, as he had always tried to do. Ziva hoped Tali would at least recognise her but children grow up so fast. She might be upset. Ziva could hardly blame her if so - spending the first half of her life without her dad, and the second half without her mum, with only vague explanations for both.

  
She knew she had done the right thing. For Tali and for Tony, and for herself by extension. It didn’t mean she didn’t feel sick every day, thinking about her daughter growing up without her.

  
When she reached the address, she got out her phone to double check it. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm her nerves before approaching the door heavy-footed and pressing the buzzer for Apartment 2. As quickly as she pressed it, though, the front door of the building opened and she came face to face with Tony.

  
It caught Ziva off guard, and it took her a split second to catch her bearings. “Um. Hi.”

  
“Hi.” Tony replied, practiced cheer in his voice.

  
“Ima!”

  
It took Ziva another second to register the voice, coming from behind Tony. He stepped out of the way and for the first time in three years, Ziva was able to see her daughter up-close. She bent down immediately, gathering Tali in her arms and pressing her tightly to her chest and neck. She felt the soft skin of Tali’s cheek on her own and grabbed her head tighter, hand running through curls which were starting to darken in colour.

  
Ziva pulled out of the hug a little so she could look at Tali properly, still kneeling on the ground. She was inches taller than when Ziva had last seen her (from closer than 100 feet away, that is). Her babylike features had developed more into those of a child – her cheeks less chubby, her hands and fingers thinner. Even her smile seemed older.

  
Tali reached out for the necklace around her mother’s neck. Her fingers were more delicate now, her movements less stern. Ziva didn’t feel the characteristic tug on the chain on the back of her neck as Tali took hold of the necklace studied the pendant in front of her eyes.

  
“You picked this for me. Do you remember?”

  
Tali nodded, a little shy now. She was swaying slightly in from side to side in the way children sometimes did when they were trying to make a good impression. As she moved, Ziva spotted a glint of gold underneath her neck. Ziva moved to touch it.

  
"Is this mine?” Ziva stared at the star between her fingers.

  
"Never takes it off." Ziva registered the voice as belonging to Tony but didn’t look up at him. She couldn’t stop looking at the necklace. Holding the Star of David tightly, Ziva finally let go of the tears she had been holding onto since she boarded the plane 12 hours ago.

  
“Why are you crying?” Her daughter’s voice, now much more established and understandable, was tentative and concerned. Ziva let go of the necklace and put her arm around Tali’s side.

  
“I’m just happy to see you.”

  
“Are you happy to see aba?” Tali asked conversationally, still seemingly a little bemused by the situation.

  
“Of course I am.” Ziva responded with a smile, standing up to face the man in question. The words “good to see you” seemed redundant and not at all suitable for the situation but she whispered them anyway, her watery eyes searching his to gauge what he was thinking. Under ger gaze, a smile began to play on the corners of Tony’s lips.

  
Without missing a beat, Ziva put her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. It took a moment before his arms wrapped around her tightly, so tight Ziva thought all the air might leave her lungs. Ziva’s arms around his neck drew him tighter and he turned his face towards her head, placing his lips just above her ear.

  
“You alright?” He whispered quietly. Ziva didn’t respond, just nodded as she felt tears falling again.

  
Tony moved his head back just enough so that he could face Ziva. His forehead hovered close to hers but he pulled it back, keeping a thin gap between their faces so he could look her directly in the eyes and gauge her expression. She attempted a smile, the movement of her cheeks making her eyes blur with the tears hanging underneath them. Tony removed his arms from Ziva to swipe either cheek dry with his hands, and then backed away fully.

  
"C'mon. Let's get inside. It's cold out here." He lifted an arm again to gently guide Ziva inside and shut the door behind her.

  
"Is it snowing?" Tali asked excitedly.

  
"No, not that cold." Ziva was still slightly dazed, trying to take in the conversation happening around her while the three of them walked up the stairs. "Hey, does it snow in Israel?"

  
Ziva realised the question was being directed at her. She looked up at Tony, who was a few steps above her but looking over his shoulder with an encouraging smile. She blinked. "In some places. Not usually in Tel Aviv.”

  
Ziva knew that Tony was reaching a lifeline out to engage her, but it was difficult to offer more while she was still trying to get her bearings. She kept one eye on each of them as they climbed the stairs in front of her, trying to grasp that this was all real. That was really Tali in front of her, grabbing onto Tony’s shirt and tugging it as she hopped happily up to the apartment.

  
Everything else she felt – the guilt, the shock, the worry, she tried to press down. At least for now, at least until she had the chance to spend time with her daughter again. To see her smile and talk to her and learn about who she was now. The rest of it could wait.

  
The apartment really was small – you immediately entered into a small kitchen with a table and 4 chairs. A door presumably to the bathroom was tucked to one side. Off the kitchen was a living area, with a balcony one side of the room and sliding doors to the single bedroom on the other side. As she walked through the main area of the apartment, Ziva spotted a camp bed at the foot of the bed, a stuffed toy on top of the pillow.

  
“Is that who I think it is?” Ziva called, and Tali turned to look at where Ziva was pointing to the stuffed dog. She smiled brightly and ran into the room, returning and holding it up proudly to her mother.

“It is good to see you, Kelev. Do you remember, I told you he would protect you?”

  
Tali smiled and kissed the toy, before grabbing Ziva’s hand and pulling her back towards the main room.

  
"Did you really let her name her dog 'Dog'?"

  
"It suits him."

* * *

Ziva, Tony, and Tali ended up sitting on the floor in front of the sofa, Tali holding Kelev. She still seemed a little unsure of where to place her priorities, taking it in turns leaning towards both of her parents. While Ziva’s attention was mostly on Tali, almost every time she glanced upwards, Tony’s eyes were already on her.

  
"What brings you to Madrid?"

  
"Fall break. We're on a road-trip, right, Tali? Thinking about heading to Lisbon for a few days and then Barcelona on our way back up to Paris."

  
"A little traveller, hey?" Ziva lifted Tali's chin with her hand and the girl giggled shyly.

  
“Are you coming with us?” Tali asked suddenly, with a grin on her face. Ziva looked at Tony, who shrugged the decision back to her.

  
“I’d love to come, if you both want me to.”

  
“Yes! Aba does too.” Tali confirmed with a sharp nod and a look at her dad, who relented a grin back to her and ran his hand through her curls.

  
“That would be fun, huh? And then when school starts again we can take ima back home with us, how does that sound?”

  
Tali’s face grew even more excitable and she drew Kelev into her chest with swift movements. Ziva looked at Tony again, but still he was displaying little more than quiet encouragement. Of course, her main goal for the last three years had always been to get back home to the two of them. It was a little difficult to comprehend now the prospect was actually real. Perhaps there was a small part of her that had always worried if it would even be possible – if they would even want her back, after all this time.

  
Now wasn’t the time for self-doubts. Not when Tali was so excited to see her.

  
"This is her final year of kindergarten?"

  
"Yeah. She starts elementary next year."

“Who is your best friend at school?”

  
“Alex.”

  
“Alex, huh?”

  
“His daddy is friends with the queen of England.”

  
“Is he really? Maybe you should see if he can take you to meet her.”

  
Tali looked at Tony, as though he would declare they were immediately leaving for Buckingham Palace. He, in turn, looked at Ziva with a smirk. “He’s a detective, he’s done some work with the British police. Tali and Alex got confused at some point.”

  
“You know them well?”

  
“Oh yeah. We see Alex outside of school all the time, don’t we Tali? When she first started, she was a little shy. Understandable, really. Alex went home and told his mom and dad about how a girl in his class who was new to France had the same necklace as his grandma, and they encouraged him to make friends with her. He speaks a little English because of his dad. Her French is good now but I liked to know at first that there was someone she found it easy to communicate with, kids don’t need many words to become friends anyway.”

  
Ziva had spent a lot of time worrying about Tali settling in to a new country, especially when her English had still been words rather than sentences when she had been sent to live with Tony. Not that you’d be able to tell now – she spoke with an American accent, in spite of apparently only spending a couple of days there in her life.

  
Her shyness, too, seemed to be improving. Seemingly satisfied that Ziva warranted her attention, Tali spent the next few minutes taking every single toy and item of clothing out of her bag and showing them off to Ziva, while Tony sighed and groaned exasperatedly behind her packing it all away again. When she made her way through the pile, getting more and more sleepy as she rambled, she began speaking about some drawings she had been doing on the car journey to Madrid and got up and started walking towards the kitchen, at which point Tony grabbed her hand and gently pulled her back towards him.

  
"I know ima really wants to see every single one, Tali, but maybe we should save that for tomorrow. I think it’s time for bed."

  
"It's not."

  
"You can barely keep your eyes open, sweetheart."

  
Tali looked at Ziva, expecting backup. The pleading eyes bore into her soul, but she thought Tony probably had to have the sole final say right now. She'd only just got back, whereas he and Tali presumably had their night-time routine down to a hat. Besides, she knew she and Tony had a lot to talk about. "Your father is right, Tali. It's very late.”

  
“Please, aba.”

  
Hearing Tali repeatedly refer to Tony as aba rather than dad made Ziva’s heart ache.

  
“Come on. It’s way, way past your bedtime. Me and ima have to talk about grown up stuff.”

  
“Like what?”

  
“Like.. carrots.” Tony started rummaging in the suitcase on the floor as Tali pulled a face in retaliation. “Here, PJ’s.”

  
Ziva helped Tali remove her shoes and tights while Tony watched them with a look of disbelief. Tali did the rest of the work herself, then, as her parents eyes met and neither of them said anything. Just watched each other.

  
“I’m sorry, it’s just the time..” Tony said quietly as Tali busied herself getting changed. Ziva nodded at him and gave him a reassuring half-smile.

  
“I understand.”

  
Both of them went with Tali to the bathroom so she could brush her teeth, standing either side of the doorway with a little room between them. She alternated between facing them and watching them in the mirror, pulling faces. When she was done, the three of them trudged back through the house. Tali began to get a bit teary as she got into bed, making sure both Tony and Ziva were right next to her and she had Kelev clasped in her hands under the covers. She was over-tired now, clinging onto them and bleary-eyed.

  
“I don’t want to sleep.”

  
"We'll both be right here when you wake up, sweetheart. I promise. And then tomorrow, we can do whatever you like. We can go to the amusement park, or the zoo. Anything in the world."

  
Seeing Tony be so openly affectionate with Tali made Ziva's insides churn in ways she couldn't accurately assign an emotion to. Knowing she had deprived him of that for the first two years of his daughters' life. Knowing they'd built this bond while she wasn't there to witness it. How, possibly, it was actually her absence that had brought them so close together.

  
It seemed like only yesterday Ziva and McGee would be chastising Tony after the latest in a string of one night stands much too young for him, and now here he was quietly soothing their child to sleep. He pulled the covers tightly over Tali and kissed her on the forehead before moving backwards so Ziva could do the same.

  
“I love you so much. Sweet dreams.” Ziva whispered into her daughter’s hair before giving her a kiss on the lips, forehead, and one on the tip of her nose that made Tali giggle and swipe her mother away.

  
Her eyes were closed, though, and so Tony and Ziva both stood up and moved away quietly, sliding the doors closed behind them as they moved back into the living area.

  
Ziva immediately went and sat down on the sofa, but Tony hovered rubbing his hands over his jean pockets. With Tali asleep, Ziva could finally fully focus on him. He looked older. Not surprising, of course, but she wondered if he thought the same of her. He had more lines at the side of his eyes, the light hairs at the sides of his head going grey. He was tanned and wearing a light grey knitted jumper, the type Ziva had loved on him but he hadn’t worn nearly enough.

  
“She’s grown up a lot.” Tony eventually assessed, his head tilted.

  
“Yes.” Ziva caught his eye. “She is perfect, Tony.” The man seemed to take this as a compliment, and he smiled and ran a hand over the back of his neck. “She calls you aba?”

  
“It’s how she knew me. Don’t call me Benny.” It seemed like a reference Ziva would have more chance of understanding if she hadn’t been awake for over 24 hours. And, truthfully, if she’d got a single full night’s sleep in the last three years. "Would you like a drink?"

  
"A glass of water, please.”

  
"Not want anything stronger?"

  
"Just water, thank you."

  
Tony ducked into the kitchen with a dutiful smile.

  
Underneath the subsiding adrenaline, anxiety sat like a ball in Ziva's stomach. She wasn't particularly disappointed with herself - she knew from experience that getting the thing you covet doesn't automatically make everything better inside your head. Her desperation to come home hadn’t stopped her from worrying about the realities of doing so, particularly at night when she would lie awake fretting about what they were doing without her. Whether Tali would even remember her when they met again.

  
While she understood the nerves were normal, she was frustrated that she could feel the familiar fight or flight instincts taking over her. The fact she felt an urge to bolt out of the door, away from the conversation she had been craving for much of the last six years. She knew she wouldn't leave - not really, but she couldn't escape the trepidation she felt about coming face to face with Tony for real, for good.

  
Some of the times she had imagined this interaction, Tony had been angry with her. Resentful, sarcastic, once or twice even downright hateful. It couldn’t have been further from how the man had acted so far since coming face to face. He hadn’t wrapped her up in his arms and stuck his tongue down her throat, of course – but he had been welcoming. Understanding. Perhaps willing to listen, Ziva thought, in spite of what she had done since the last time they had seen each other.

* * *

"I, uh. Never threw these out." Tony emerged from the kitchen with one glass of water, one of what looked like scotch, and a large envelope under his arm. He put the two glasses down on the coffee table and tipped the envelope upside down, from which dropped two smaller ones. Ziva looked at the names and addresses on the front of each. ‘J.P Ranier’, dated December 2016. ‘Mr Tommy Nicholson’, dated 2018 (unfortunately McGee’s unrelenting creativity had not left Tony with a pen name that could appropriately hide his identity should the letter fall into the wrong hands, and so Ziva had had to take inspiration from one of Tony’s actors).

  
"You should have destroyed them."

  
"No harm done."

  
Ziva couldn't bring herself to be annoyed. It had been hard, finding a way to ensure Tony would know she was alive. But she couldn't bear for Tali to grow up thinking she was dead, no matter how risky it might have been. Bare details, but they had to know. Of course, Tony holding onto the proof was risky. But as he said, no harm done. It showed he cared. She wasn't in the mood to get annoyed over something like that right now.

  
"I used to carry the first one around, as if I needed proof it was real. Wouldn't be my first rodeo, in terms of seeing and hearing things that weren't there." The confession, light as it may have been, struck a chord with Ziva. She wasn't sure if his hallucinations were for the same reasons her occasional ones were, fuelled by the same tenuous group on reality, but it made her feel a connection to him. "But the feeling when I read them.. there's no imagining that."

  
It was difficult to know how to interpret that. He did genuinely seem happy to see her. As the years had passed, she had wondered sometimes if she was projecting. Whether her desperation to see Tony was reflecting in her belief that he’d want to see her too. It was probably too early to dig any deeper into what he was saying. Ziva knew realistically that a lot needed to be spoken about before they could contemplate a relationship (if that was even what Tony wanted). Too much had happened for it to be simple.

  
Still, though. She prayed it wasn’t too late.

  
Ziva searched the air between them looking for a way into conversation. Tony was watching her still with the same expression he had had when they were with Tali. She caught his eye and both of them chuckled slightly in mutual acknowledgement of the silence. "I think this might be the first time in history both of us have ever been lost for words at the same time."

  
“Difficult to know where to start. So, everything is uh..” Tony paused to assess his words, “It’s all over?”

  
“The situation is dealt with.” The words Ziva used seemed to amuse Tony, in a macabre sort of way. She guessed that after 14 years he knew what it meant when Ziva said she had dealt with someone. "It worked. The people who were after me, they did not know about Tali. I thought as long as that was the case, they also would see no reason to target you. I was right. They went after Gibbs instead."

  
"He alright?"

  
"Everyone is fine."

  
"You've seen them?"

  
"Not for long. McGee. Jimmy and Ducky. Ellie. And the new you, I suppose. Torres. Well, McGee sits at your desk now."

  
"I've never met him. Senior has."

  
"I liked him a lot, actually. He and Ellie have a thing, I believe. Not that they would admit it." In the silence that followed, something akin to understanding passed between the two of them. “I told Nick to tell her how he feels. I do not know if he will listen.”

  
"Poor McGee." Tony mustered after a few seconds. Ziva smiled. "Did they know? I mean, did anyone besides me know?"

  
"Adam and Odette, as I wrote to you in the letters. Ellie found out a few months ago, I made her promise not to tell anyone for the sake of you and Tali. I am very thankful to her, she went above and beyond for someone she had never met."

  
"She's a good agent."

  
"A good _person_. It was not to do with her job." Ziva corrected, the two of them were now so far removed from their times in law enforcement.

  
It had been strange, going back to NCIS. Sitting at her old desk where she had spent the best part of a decade. It almost felt as though it had happened to somebody else – like she was looking back on the memories of some past life. Things had changed so much since she had last been there.

  
“They happy to see you? Must have been a shock.”

  
“I think that is one word for it.” Ziva assessed the situation. “McGee seemed hurt that Ellie had known and not him, but he was his usual self. I was glad to see him. Apparently Jimmy was climbing the walls waiting for me to go downstairs to visit. And Gibbs..” He _had_ been happy to see her, right? She hadn’t been particularly receptive of what he was offering, and more than once she had let her emotions get away from her, but she thought he understood that. “It is complicated with Gibbs and I.”

  
“What happened?”

  
“Nothing. I just said some things that had been on my mind.”

  
“I’m listening.”

  
Ziva hesitated. “I confronted him, about how he reacted when I died. ‘Died’,” she added, as though she had to emphasise Tony wasn’t talking to a ghost. At least not in the literal sense. “The fact that he had not come looking for me. I suppose maybe I got used to people saving me. I know it is a selfish thing to be thinking about, and frankly I do not deserve it, but..”

  
“I don’t know what to tell you about how Gibbs reacted. Or any of them. Honestly, I was hanging on by a thread, I wasn’t really processing.”

  
“I understand that, Tony, really. And I’m not expecting you to offer me reassurances in that regard because I think I have done enough searching for that.”

  
“You know I looked for you, right?”

  
A beat. “No. I didn’t. Maybe I had hoped so.” Ziva half-smiled at him, though she could feel tears stinging her eyes again.

  
“When Vance got the call from Mossad, I didn’t exactly take it well. Well – there’s probably a whole spectrum between ‘not taking it well’ and ‘having a breakdown in the middle of the bullpen and being dragged home by your father’.” There was a slight sarcasm in Tony’s voice, a little self-deprecating. It was familiar to Ziva, though she hadn’t heard it often. “I pretty much got banished from the building, but then Orli arrived and I got called back in. I wasn’t exactly welcoming, but then Tali was there and I couldn’t have cared less about anything Orli Elbaz was doing. In the space of 5 minutes I went from being Tony DiNozzo, free and single, to being a single dad. I found that hard to process, probably understandably. I still wasn’t really dealing with the fact you were gone. And on top of that, I convinced myself you were leaving clues for me.”

  
Ziva had been finding it hard to listen, but the word stuck out. “Clues?”

  
“Y’know, Nicholas Cage, National Treasure. Some of the things in Tali’s bag. The picture of the two of us? It seemed convenient, that you would have that packed in a bag when your house got bombed during the night. So when I left NCIS, Tali and I went to Israel. Looking for you, looking for answers. But while we were, we really got to know each other. After a while I guess I realised that I had to think about what it was doing to her.” Tony paused reluctantly, casting a careful glance at Ziva. As though he was choosing his words carefully; didn’t want her to think he’d given up. “I made my own ‘I Will’ list, and buried it in the orchard next to yours. ‘Do this for her’. I had to be better, for Tali. I couldn’t keep chasing ghosts. We came to Paris, settled down. And then I got your letter.”

  
Ziva let the words stew between them for a few moments before thinking of a response. “You always look for me. Even when I do not want to be found.”

  
“Not sure I’m able to stop now.” Tony smiled, a little sad, taking a long sip of his drink.

  
"You left NCIS just like that?"

  
"As soon as Trent Kort was dead."

  
"I did not expect you would do that. I thought you would probably raise Tali there."

  
"I always thought my job was my life, that that would be it for me. But Jimmy and I had a talk that made me open my eyes to some things. The second I saw her face, I just.." Tony exhaled. "She looks like you, you know."

  
"She has your eyes."

  
"That's what Orli said the first time I met her."

  
It took Ziva a while to take in the weight of what Tony had said. He had been talking in short phrases and questions until now, giving Ziva the room to lead the conversation. So much of her time back in DC, with Gibbs, had been spent questioning why he didn’t look for her. Why he ignored the clues she left. And now, here was Tony. He had listened like he always did.

  
Tony was looking down, and Ziva followed his eyeline to the deep scar on her arm. Self-conscious under his 100-yard stare, she tried to shrug her sleeve back over the scar, but Tony grabbed her hand before she could. He pulled her arm carefully towards his, and with his other hand began following the mark and drawing over it with light fingers. He didn't ask about it.

  
“I will not lie to you, the past couple of years have been difficult.”

  
“That’s probably an understatement.”

  
“Yes.” Ziva sighed, the slight smile of disbelief on her face being washed away when she saw the expression on Tony’s. “Tony, I know what you are thinking.”

  
“What am I thinking?”

  
“It is not your fault.”

  
"I left you there because I thought you'd be happy. I wanted you to be happy."

  
"You left me there because I told you to. You should not feel guilt over this. Nothing that has happened is your fault."

  
"I don't feel guilty.” Tony sighed heavily. "I should've been there. I wish I could've helped you."

  
"Tali needed at least one of her parents. If something had happened to you, I..."

  
"I know. I just wish it could've been different."

  
"So do I."

  
"That doesn't matter now, though.”

  
“No. What matters is in there.” Ziva signalled to the closed door, hiding the sleeping Tali. Tony’s eyes were burning into her again, his head tilted towards one side and a slight testing smile. As though he was assessing what was going on in her head. “Do not look at me like that.”

  
“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

  
“You are.”

  
“I don’t know how else to look at you.” Tony’s voice faded out. Ziva avoided meeting his eyes, again, running her hands over her thighs. If he was angry with her, he was hiding it well. The apprehension on his face, though, was evident.

  
"Look, Tony.” Ziva began carefully, tracing through her brain the hundreds of conversations she had planned to have with him over the years. “I am not sure how to even begin saying thank you for what you have done. You know that, even now, I would trust you with my own life. We were partners, of course. But I think you are the only person in the world I would trust to do anything to keep Tali safe. And that is not just about you being her father. It is about you being who you are." Ziva knew that, above all, Tony DiNozzo was the most loyal man she had ever met. To a fault, at times. It was one of the reasons why thinking about what she did made her feel sick. “I’m so sorry Tony. For everything. I do not think it possible for me to explain my actions to you – not now, back then. I hope you can understand I did this now to keep you and Tali safe. But keeping her from you before, that was…”

  
"Hey, you're shaking."

  
Ziva looked down at her fingers, slightly vibrating from side to side. She balled them into a fist and then released them with a deep inhale and exhale. After a moment, she took a few more deep breaths. Tony didn't say anything, just watched her. She took a sip of her drink, one more deep breath.

  
"Sorry."

  
"It's ok." Tony said quietly, easy but with evident concern in his voice. "We don't have to talk about all of it tonight."

  
“That might be a good idea. I think I need a night to think through everything I would like to say. I have practiced this conversation a lot.” Ziva put the glass of water back down on the table and straightened her back. "I've been taking pills, to help me. Not recently - I do not like what they do to my head when I am trying to think clearly. But I have been taking them."

  
Tony nodded, a neutral expression on his face. “That’s probably a good thing. Is it?”

  
Ziva nodded. “They help to take the ledge off.”

  
“Edge.” Tony responded with a nervous smile. "Have you spoken to anyone? A therapist, or-"

  
Ziva laughed a little, sardonically. "I have been in hiding for 3 years, Tony."

  
"You aren't anymore."

  
"No, I'm not. I suppose it is something to think about."

  
"Please do. I know you never used to like talking about things in that way, but I think for your own sake. For Tali's. It's good to talk to someone."

  
“What about you? Do you have someone to talk to?”

  
Tony hummed. “Me and Senior have got pretty close, if you’d believe that. And I have Tali.”

  
“Gibbs told me once that you are never alone if you have kids. Sometimes I think he can be right. Not always. For one, I think that sometimes apologies are necessary. And I did want to say how sorry I am. I can try to explain it away, but I will never be able to do so in a way that will make sense. Believe me, I have spent much of the last six years trying to understand my own actions, even as I was doing them.”

  
“You got inside your head.”

  
“I have always been inside my head. Perhaps now it is just easier to see from the outside. But we can talk about all of this tomorrow, or the next day. If that sounds good to you.”

  
“Sounds good to me. But, y’now,” Tony tightened his jaw, “I think you should probably stop beating yourself up over it. What’s done is done. Apologising or obsessing about it isn’t going to change the past. I told you once that the universe was begging you to wipe the slate clean. Start again. I think that’s an open invitation if you’re still interested.”

  
Ziva knew, realistically, that he was right. If only it was as easy as being able to cast aside the thoughts – to be able to simply stop obsessing about the things she’d done, stop feeling guilty, stop worrying about the impact it would have on Tali spending the first 3 years of her life without her dad and the next 3 without her mum.

  
“It is not like this is my first chance at getting things right, Tony. I have been granted a lot of chances, by a lot of people. What about next time? Do I get the same chance?”

  
“That depends. Do we have another kid you never told me about?” Ziva wiped a stray tear from her eye as she chuckled. Tony smiled before going serious again, his voice quiet. “Seriously, Ziva. I know what you’re thinking. And I know _you_, still, even though things are clearly a little different now. There’s nothing stopping you from starting again – there’s no rules against it. You have a daughter who needs you, and she needs to be able to rely on you. It is what it is. But you’ve spent the last three years protecting her, protecting the both of us, so you could come back here. It would be a shame if you didn’t allow yourself to appreciate that.”

  
“I _do_ appreciate it.”

  
“Then stop waiting for me to blow up.”

  
It was interesting that he could still read through the lines of the things Ziva wasn’t saying. She was. It was too good to be true to think he wouldn’t be angry with her, after the years had passed with no resolution for what she’d done to him. She felt that she didn’t deserve to be forgiven without a word. But whatever had to be said, had to come from him. She couldn’t goad him into a reaction. She knew that that would just be another form of self-sabotage.

  
She tried not to take what Sahar said to heart, but in a way she had a point. She could be a coward when it came to the people she cared about. She had known Tony for close to 15 years, and how often in that time had she been honest with him about how she felt? Had she ever?

  
"You got glasses."

  
Tony looked confused for a split second before he followed Ziva’s eyeline to the black frames on the coffee table. "Oh, yeah. All those years of being slapped round the head finally caught up with me."

  
Ziva picked them up and tentatively placed them onto Tony's face. He held still, as though afraid if he moved she would stop.

  
"They look good."

  
"Yeah?"

  
"Yeah. I like them."

  
"Tali thinks they make me look like Dr Miller. Which I.. think, is a compliment?"

  
"Who is Dr Miller?"

  
"The world's first surgeon slash mouse. He's on this cartoon, Animal Hospital. Her favourite."

  
"Cartoon, huh? I would have thought you would have indoctrinated her into watching the Princess Bride and Home Alone.”

  
"I've learned that parenting is about compromise. Besides, plenty of time."

  
“That is very mature of you.”

  
Tony turned to look at Ziva with a glint in his eye, registering the tease in her voice. “Hey, I’m not all old movies. There’s more to me than meets the eye.”  
"That is not all I think of you."

  
"I'm listening." Tony's voice, suddenly full of the charm and softly spoken flirtation Ziva had become so accustomed to over the years spent in each other's pockets, encouraged a relenting smile on her face. Perhaps the first sincere one they had shared since sitting down.

  
His smile in return made her chest flutter, the feeling dissipating just as quickly as it appeared when it was replaced with a shock that that was still possible. After all these years - almost 15, so many of them apart, and Jenny, and Rivkin, and Somalia, and Adam - still one smile from Tony DiNozzo could make Ziva's heart speed up in her chest.

  
Perhaps he sensed that she was deep in thought, as the smile died slowly on his lips as he continued to look at her. She fought the urge to look away, instead challenging him to keep looking at her with the same serious expression on his face. It was Tony that looked away first.

  
“When did you last sleep?”

  
“It has been a while.”

  
“We should get some rest, while we can. God knows what Tali will have us doing tomorrow.”

  
Tony kicked off his shoes and braced his arms at either side as if to stand up. Neither of them moved, though. Ziva watched him and saw his eyes flicker towards hers before he turned his head to her and ducked it slightly.

  
All the times she had ran this situation over in her head the last few years, she had never anticipated it being awkward and timid. Angry, yes. Emotional, almost always. Even passionate, sometimes. But the two of them both too scared to get into bed? Shy was probably not in the top 50 words an outsider would use to describe either one of them, but it was the energy Ziva felt between them right now. As though both of them were cautious about what the other was planning to do next.

* * *

Ziva made the first move, getting the impression that Tony was still unsure about what was going on in her head. She shrugged off the jacket she had been wearing for 24 hours, and knelt down to her small rucksack from which she pulled a t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants.

  
She thought about going into the bathroom to get changed but decided against it. Her and Tony played a game of 'avoiding eye contact while still watching each other' while they got changed, and then again both hesitated by the sides of the bed.

  
They had shared a bed a few times before. The circumstances had been wildly different each time – an exciting and revealing weekend during an undercover operation early in their relationship. A tentative and quiet night in a Paris hotel-room when they were still finding their feet again after the events of the past year. A few hours of pretending to sleep in Berlin, Ziva with her mind on Bodnar and Tony with his mind on Ziva. And three nights in Israel, from which Tali had arrived.

  
One thing all of the past experiences had in common was Tony and Ziva’s aversion to a touch barrier. She supposed it was a hang-up from their first time undercover – neither of them had ever been timid, and a lot of the awkwardness of meeting someone new dissipated quickly when you spent a prolonged time naked in bed with them.

  
A shared bed had become, in some ways, a neutral zone. Whatever was going on in their relationship was left by the wayside. It was probably the reason why, in spite of their uncharacteristic nervousness, neither of them was shy about being close once they lay down.

  
Tony lay down on his back. Ziva settled down facing him, close to the gap between their two pillows. In something akin to reassurance, Ziva placed her hand on his shoulder.

  
“You gonna be able to sleep?”

  
“I am not sure yet.” Ziva responded quietly, watching Tony as he looked up at the ceiling.

  
“Still things on your mind?”

  
"There are a lot of other things I want to say.” Ziva could feel her reluctance rising once again, her desire to dance around the topic. “I have no expectations from you."

  
Tony rolled onto his side to look at her then. He lifted his hand to her chin, and she lowered her bottom jaw a little to feel more of his fingers touching her skin. His thumb made contact with her bottom lip and pulled it down a little. She stayed frozen, watching him.

  
"What is it that you want to say?"

  
Ziva lowered her mouth further, pressing a kiss to the pad of Tony's thumb. The feeling jolted something in her - Tony kissing her fingers in Israel all those years ago, the look on his face and the tears in his eyes and the crack in his voice as he begged her not to leave him. The memory almost made her jump back, and perhaps Tony could sense her sudden hesitation because he ducked his head to press his lips to her shoulder. He looked up at her from that position, and she looked into his eyes before blinking a few times.

  
"Not with Tali here. Come with me," As quickly as they had settled down, Ziva moved herself into a sitting position and got out of bed. Casting a glance down at Tali fast asleep with her hair sprawled out over the pillow, she led Tony quietly out of the room and out onto the balcony.

  
Balcony was probably a strong word – it was more like a small lip of concrete with a railing that looked down onto the now quiet street. No room to do anything more than lean on the railing at a slight angle. Ziva stepped out first and Tony followed her, leaving the doors ajar. Both of them instinctively faced out towards the street, hands braced on the railing. In the distance, a couple of cars drove past.

  
Tony was clearly waiting for Ziva to start talking. It was unlike him to bite his tongue, but Ziva had noticed that he would do it around her sometimes when the conversation got more serious. Didn’t allow his mouth to run away with him.

  
"Are you mad at me?” The question, abrupt as it was, made Tony pause. He wasn’t looking at Ziva, but she could see the frown appear on his face. “It is not a trick question."

  
"I think I've been mad, and sad, and confused, and sympathetic, in a loop about a hundred times over. Right now I'm uh-" Tony looked down onto the street. "Freezing my ass off." He shrugged, and Ziva burst into the kind of laughter that hadn't allowed itself much room in her recent times. Tony waited for her to go quiet again. "I meant what I said earlier, we need to talk about all of this for real. Everything, way back from before you even left the US. It might be difficult, but it needs to be done. And that doesn't mean I'm going to be mad, don’t think that. I just want to understand. Then the two - three, of us.. can start looking forward."

  
"And what does looking forward entail?"

  
Tony shrugged and made a noise of indecisiveness. "Well. I guess that depends."

  
"On?"

  
"What it is you're looking for."

  
They stood in silence again for a few moments. Ziva watched a family get out of a car across the street, the man leaning into the back seat and re-emerging holding a sleeping child in his arms.

  
It was too easy, even after all this time, to slip into old habits. To avoid being honest and to cover things up rather than confronting the situation between them. They usually waited until things came to a head in one way or another before talking about them - Rivkin and Adam and Ziva staying in Israel being the best examples, though obviously at 3 very different places on the scale in terms of their repercussions.

  
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Tony continued when Ziva made no move to speak. “Did you ever finish counting to a million?”

  
“I think maybe I lost count a few times.”

  
“Hate it when that happens.” The charming tone was back in Tony’s voice again. He captured Ziva’s eyeline and tipped his head at her, but she found herself looking away back over the railings. She felt Tony’s eyes on her still. "There's no point lying to me. You know that, right? I can tell.”

  
"I know."

  
"OK then, I'll ask. Are you OK?"

  
"You have said, a few times now, that you know me. And you might still be right. But I am not sure I am the same person anymore as the one you used to know. I do not want you to be disappointed."

  
"Disappointed? Ziva, I-"

  
"Just a moment. Please. I want for the three of us to move forward, you're right. I am tired of waiting. But it will not be easy - there are also some things I need to work on, on my own. I realise I have spent three years alone, but to be honest I was not exactly coping well with that. I really do want to be a better person."

  
"So what are you asking?"

  
"I am not asking for anything. I just want to be more honest with the people that I care about."

  
Tony nodded. "Just for the record, I don't want you to be some old version of yourself. I just want you to be who you are. Whatever you need to do, you know me and Tali have your back."

  
"You always do. Which is why I really wanted to talk to you."

  
Ziva looked at Tony, and he took it as an invitation to turn to face her. She echoed his movement, a step or two of space between them. Ziva's hand hung in the air before coming down to rest on the railing millimetres from Tony's thumb. Tony watched her hand out of the corner of his eye.

  
"I realise that a lot of our interactions have involved us not saying what we were really thinking. And then when we finally got better at that, especially you, everything happened with my father, and Bodnar, and Adam. And then I left.” Ziva looked at Tony then, willed herself to say this while looking him in the eye. “Many times over the last six years I have had to contend with the thought that I might never see you face-to-face again. Or if I did, you might not be willing to listen to what I wanted to say. We spent so long hiding the truth and dancing around the issue. So many times I pushed you away and..." Ziva captured Tony’s fingers in her own where they lay on the railing. "The truth is, Tony, that I love you. There is a million other things I need to say, but before anything else I need you to know that.”

  
Ziva watched Tony’s response carefully. He looked almost winded – genuinely surprised at what she had said. Or, perhaps, more surprised that she had actually vocalised it. She offered him a small smile and he held his breath for a split second before releasing it loudly with an open-mouthed grin, which he then directed at the floor. He looked at their hands on the railing and used his fingers to trace hers. They were cold.

  
"Can I ask you a question?"

  
"Of course."

  
"How long did you spend practicing that?"

  
Ziva thought about scoffing or making a sarcastic comment about Tony's big head. It didn't seem right to. "A while."

  
"Yeah, I thought so."

  
"Perhaps you could have put similar effort into planning a response."

  
"How did I know that was coming?"

  
"Tony."

  
Tony inhaled and glanced away for a second before looking back at Ziva, mouth open and eyes shining, amusement and something else evident in his expression.

  
Tony had always been the one more willing to be vulnerable and open with his feelings. It tended to catch Ziva off guard; the way he would go achingly serious and say something in Hebrew, or coin the phrase 'post-elevator us', or ask her if he was really in her life. The truth was he had stopped bullshitting a long time ago. And if Ziva was honest with herself, she had known how he had felt about her for a long time. Longer than she was willing to be aware of it.

  
Perhaps it was this, a little bit of guilt and even a misplaced sense of duty, that led Ziva to approach him and place a hand on his cheek before he could say anything. Showing before he could tell. It was presumptuous of her, maybe, to assume he would still feel something after all these years and everything that had passed between them. But she rubbed her thumb and down once, twice, and the smile he offered her was possibly the purest she had ever seen from him. When she lifted her head to replace the smile with her lips, he met her halfway.

  
The kiss was soft, almost fragile. As quickly as their lips met, Tony pulled back. Before Ziva had the chance to feel wounded, he grabbed both of her hands in his.

  
“I love you too. Have done for a _really_ long time. Since we left you on tarmac in Israel, the first time around. I thought I had lost you for good, and it kinda hit me like a freight train. If you think I’d be able to let go of that, you have a lot still to learn about me.”

  
“Same summer. Different continent. Probably for different reasons.”

  
“That long?”

  
“You have a lot still to learn about me.” Ziva echoed, a challenge in her eyes fighting with the tears she could feel stinging. Tony lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed them before dropping them and bringing his own to Ziva’s face to kiss her again, harder this time.

  
Every kiss they had shared before had been rushed in some way. The excitement of their first, when they were half-playing pretend all those years ago. Fitful messy kisses in Israel when Tony was desperately persuading her to change her mind. A kiss on the tarmac that both stopped and sped up time. This one was slower. More relaxed. Ziva had time to wrap her arms around Tony’s neck and pull him in closer as his thumb rubbed along her jaw. Her cheeks were starting to feel the cold but not as much as his fingers, which were freezing against her skin. They separated for a moment and the grin on his face made Ziva smile as she closed the gap again, the tip of her tongue encouraging Tony’s mouth to open.

  
When he moved his hands to her neck, the feeling made Ziva cringe.

  
“Your hands are cold.”

  
“I wasn’t kidding before.” Tony lowered his hands so they snaked around her waist, joining behind her. After a split second in which he looked downwards, Ziva sensed what he was about to do and grabbed his arms, pulling them away from her before he could put his hands on the bare skin of her back.

  
“I will throw you off this balcony.”

  
“Fine, fine.” Tony gave Ziva another quick but firm kiss. Ziva batted him lightly on the cheek but closed the space between their bodies, tucking her head into his neck. His arms wrapped firmly around her and she didn’t complain about his cold features as he pressed a kiss into her hair.

  
“What happens now?”

“Like I said, ball’s in your court. You want to come home with us?”

  
“I _am_ home.” Ziva said after a moment’s silence, and she felt Tony stop in his tracks. “But,” she lifted her head to look him in the eye. “I want the two of you to show me yours.”

  
“I love you.” Tony said again, quieter this time, and Ziva rested her chin on his shoulder as she looked out over the quiet Madrid streets.


End file.
